Spiteful Wishes
by Lady Eleanor Boleyn
Summary: On his sixth Birthday, Elbereth Rosier makes a wish purely to spite his younger sisters. Challenge Response.


_AN: For my own "Birthdays" Challenge. 900 words. Enjoy!_

**Spiteful Wishes**

The mahogany dining table in the Rosier Mansion groaned beneath the heaps of elaborate presents that were awaiting the now six year old son and heir, Elbereth. Elbereth himself, meanwhile, stood at the head of the table, perched on a chair to give him the necessary height needed for him to blow out the candles on his birthday cake; a cake that was in itself as large as a wagon wheel.

"Make a wish! Go on, darling, make a wish," his mother, Orchid Rosier _nee _Parkinson, squealed happily, clapping enthusiastically.

Had this been anywhere other than her son's birthday party, her childish behaviour might have earned her a few disapproving glances from the other Purebloods, but as it was, they just smiled indulgently and nodded in agreement. Elbereth looked to his father hopefully.

"Will my wish come true, whatever it is?"

"If Merlin can make it that way," his father assured his beloved eldest child.

Satisfied, Elbereth waited for the guests to finish their dutiful chorus of "Happy Birthday!" and then closed his eyes and exhaled all the air in his lungs in one great long gush of air that snuffed out all six flickering candle flames at once.

"Oh, well done, young sir!", Iago, the Greengrass Patriarch, called out, forgetting his rank for just the briefest of moments. Elbereth smiled at the praise, before graciously condescending to favour little Anthea Bole with his attention as she tugged on his sleeve.

"Yes, Anthea?"

"What did you withh for, 'Lbereth?" she lisped. Elbereth hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he should bother to tell her, then, feeling both bold and uncharacteristically generous, cut her a large slice of cake and led her over to his pile of gifts as he answered, "Oh, nothing big, really. I only said that I wanted the House Elves to only answer to the men of the house and not the women. So our elves can only take orders from me and Father and not Mother or my sisters. Unless we tell them to listen to them, of course."

Though, he himself did not hear, being wholly engrossed in the tearing of wrapping paper, there was an audible gasp at the young boy's words. The guests looked askance at one another. They all knew Elbereth could be overindulged by his parents, but this was incredible. This had really crossed the line. Surely Phaendar wouldn't let him get away with that? Surely he wouldn't grant him his wish, not this time? Not even on his birthday.

But Phaendar could barely restrain a triumphant smile. It seemed that all the time he had spent drilling his values into the boy over the past six years was finally paying off. He was finally learning that men were better than women. Still, perhaps including Orchid had been a little over the top. She might be childish at times, but she was still a grown woman and the one he had sworn to cherish above all things. She was the mother of his heir, even if she had only given him daughters since. There was still time for another son, after all. She was only in her twenties. Young, pretty and healthy enough to mother plenty more children if he so wished it.

Besides, he had to present a united front for the sake of the visitors. Taking Orchid's arm, he forced a laugh and pretended to wave away the lad's arrogance.

"Elbereth did not mean to include his mother in his wish, of course. He knows to respect his betters, really. He's just overexcited today. Forgive him, won't you?"

"Of course," Antares Black's lips twitched into some semblance of a smile and, once the Black family had condoned the young boy's behaviour, Phaendar knew he was safe. As always, every other family followed their lead, falling over themselves to assure Phaendar that he had the finest boy any of them had ever seen.

Waving an airy hand, he accepted their praise and then said, "Shall we allow the children to return to the playroom and enjoy themselves for a little longer? I know Elbereth is keen to open his gifts, but perhaps you yourselves would prefer to have some rather more stimulating tipples and conversations?"

"Good idea."

There was a general murmur of agreement, so Phaendar clicked his fingers to the House Elves, motioning to them to gather up the presents, all except the one that Elbereth was clutching to him like a miser might clutch a pile of gold – his new broom – and to shepherd the children into the playroom a couple of floors up.

It took a few minutes, partly due to the sheer number of gifts that the six year old boy had received and partly because of Elbereth's sheer determination to stay down here and remain the centre of attention, but one glare from his father sufficed to silence his protests. Though the boy was usually given his own way, he knew that, if his father glared at him like that, he had pushed things too far. He had to yield and do what he was told.

Once the removal of the children had been accomplished and peace had been restored to his dining room, Pheandar sighed with relief, calling for a bottle of the finest elven wine and pouring himself and his guests extra-large tumblers. Another tedious birthday party had been successfully endured.


End file.
